


You Bleed In Gold And Rust

by meanderingmirth



Category: VIXX
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-31
Updated: 2015-08-31
Packaged: 2018-04-18 06:12:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4695071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meanderingmirth/pseuds/meanderingmirth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It doesn’t get better right away, but he and Jaehwan tries.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Bleed In Gold And Rust

**Author's Note:**

> it starts off sad but I promise there’s a happy ending

The beginning of this year’s autumn marks the fall of leaves, temperatures, and Taekwoon’s heart.

Not that that stops Hakyeon.

“Get up,” his oldest friend says briskly, yanking the covers of Taekwoon in a swift tug that leaves him no chance to prepare for the sudden onslaught of cold air. “C’mon, get out of bed.”

“Go away,” Taekwoon mutters, curling around to face the wall, and then yells when Hakyeon grabs the back of his shirt and pulls him off the bed and onto the ground.

“You have been moping around in bed for a week now,” Hakyeon retorts, stepping over Taekwoon to toss his blanket back onto the bed. “School started four days ago. You have to keep going to class.”

“...I can’t.”

Hakyeon whips around to glare at him. “Stop it, Taekwoon. I know you’re upset, but you can’t keep going on like this.”

“I know that,” Taekwoon mutters, slowly pushing himself upright. He scrubs at his face groggily, trying to refresh himself. “Just... give me a moment.”

Hakyeon surveys him with searching eyes, and his expression softens a little.

“I made noodles for breakfast,” he says, walking over to pull Taekwoon’s schoolbag off the floor, and proceeds to toss his notebook, pencil and textbook into it. “Help yourself if you want. I have to go to work in a bit.”

“Okay,” Taekwoon says, blinking slowly as he watches Hakyeon zip his bag up.

“Want to come volunteer after your class?” Hakyeon offers, striding over to his closet to pick out some clothes for him. A shirt, sweater and a pair of jeans fly towards him, and Taekwoon raises his arms a second too late and everything lands on his head.

“Maybe,” he mumbles, ignoring Hakyeon’s little snort of laughter. Normally he’d love to go to the dance studio Hakyeon works at and help out with the toddler classes, but he doesn’t think he has the energy to keep up with a dozen bouncing kids today.

“Well, shoot me a message if you want to come by,” Hakyeon offers, and Taekwoon nods, pulling his shirt off his head. Hakyeon walks over to ruffle his hair fondly, and Taekwoon bats Hakyeon’s hand away half-heartedly.

“See you in a bit,” Hakyeon calls, shutting Taekwoon’s door behind him as he leaves his room.

His weak goodbye dies halfway in his throat, and he sits on the ground for another ten minutes, surrounded by clothes and books, trying to gather his thoughts while simultaneously trying to push the cluttered mess away from his heart.

+

Jaehwan texts him when he’s sitting in the middle of class, even though it’s roughly three in the morning from where he’s at.

His message makes Taekwoon’s heart ache.

_good afternoon :) How are you feeling today?_

He wonders if Hakyeon ratted his current disposition out, and decides to play dumb.

_I’m fine. In class right now._

_On your phone in class? are u being rebellious? ;)_

_Of course not, it’s just boring here._

_No kidding. Did I tell you about the new substitute prof I got for my musical history class? Watching paint dry is more interesting than his lessons._

The corners of Taekwoon’s mouth twitches up a fraction as he imagines Jaehwan slumped over in the third row of the lecture hall, eyelids drooping as he fought hard to stay awake in the face of a soul-suckingly dull lecture. When they had a class like that together in second year, Taekwoon was always there to elbow Jaehwan in the side to keep him awake.

He wonders if Jaehwan manages to stay awake without him now, and something twists in his chest.

His phone continues to ping with incoming texts as Jaehwan reels off his experiences in a different class, a different school, and a different country, but Taekwoon can’t bring himself to respond until long after lecture is over.

+

He feels like an unsupportive, ungrateful, selfish boyfriend whenever he finds himself wishing that Jaehwan hadn’t taken the offer from the school overseas. Those bouts of desperate hopes that Jaehwan might suddenly change his mind and reject the acceptance plagued Taekwoon for the two months leading up to the start of the school year. It was something he loathed feeling but was unable to stop, because after all the dancing around and the time they’ve wasted trying to get together, it just felt so unfair for it all to vanish so quickly. And despite Jaehwan’s assurances that nothing would’ve changed between the two of them and that he’d visit during the holidays and return during summer break, Taekwoon had, inevitably, made too much space for his relationship to find something that could properly fill the Jaehwan-shaped gap left behind.

Hongbin assured him that it would take time, that Taekwoon would come around, and that it was normal to miss someone terribly, but Taekwoon was beginning to fear that he was becoming far too dependant. Jaehwan was supposed to be his partner, not his crutch.

He desperately wants everything to be okay.

+

Hakyeon had to wake him up again on Monday, when Taekwoon slept through all five of his alarms after tossing and turning too much the night before.

He made it to class by himself the next day, but his focus slipped so badly that he had to leave halfway through and cool off outside, thighs growing cold as he sat on the giant rocks for an hour next to the front entrance.

Sanghyuk invited him out to dinner Thursday night, and Taekwoon ended up drinking a bit more than he was accustomed to and crashed in Sanghyuk’s dorm that night, waking up with a bad hangover that became his excuse for skipping Friday’s classes.

Then the weekends came, and he sifted slowly through his homework at the library study rooms, trying to ignore the worried looks Hongbin was shooting him over his law textbooks and the amount of concern Sanghyuk was showing him, clearly still feeling guilty about not cutting Taekwoon off the other night.

He can’t take it.

He’s ruining things for his friends as well, and curses himself for it.

Monday starts again, and hard as he tries, he just can’t pull himself out of bed, and Hakyeon is back to wake him.

He didn’t mean for it to turn out like this.

+

Two weeks later, Taekwoon has a nightmare about the night he and Jaehwan argued. They were standing in the middle of the burrito store down the block on the university’s south side of all places, terrorizing the employees behind the counter as they watched two grown men shout at each other until their faces were red and Taekwoon’s heart was aching and Jaehwan looked as though he might cry.

In reality, Hongbin and Sanghyuk happened by and broke up the fight, with Hongbin hooking a firm arm around Taekwoon’s elbow and pulling him out of the store, leaving Sanghyuk to deal with Jaehwan. They cooled off in the park down the street, where Hongbin awkwardly offered Taekwoon a bottle of water and Taekwoon eventually broke down and cried on Hongbin’s shoulder. Sanghyuk and Jaehwan caught up with them a moment later, and then it was Jaehwan’s arms that pulled Taekwoon towards him, apologizing with tearful words and trembling kisses to the top of his head.

But in the nightmare, Jaehwan doesn’t stop shouting, and when he leaves, he doesn’t stop walking until Taekwoon can’t catch up, can’t see him anymore, and is standing by himself, anger and hurt and confusion welling up inside of him until everything threatens to shake and explode.

And then he realizes it’s Hakyeon who’s shaking him awake, the faint glow of his desk light showing the concern on his friend’s face.

“Taekwoon, it’s okay,” Hakyeon says, helping him sit up. “It’s just a dream, Taekwoon, it’s okay. Don’t cry.”

He touches his face in alarm, and his cheeks are wet and his eyelashes are damp with tears. Frustration wells up brutally. Taekwoon hates himself for crying, he really does. It’s tiring and leaves him drained and emotionally exhausted, and it’s not fair to his friends, who drop whatever they’re doing to rush over, trying to either comfort him or pull him through his daily tasks. It doesn’t feel right to constantly succumb to this, but lately Taekwoon feels like his emotions are just out of whack.

“S-sorry,” he mutters, scrubbing at his face. “I woke you up.”

“Idiot,” Hakyeon huffs, giving him a light neck chop. “I was worried you’d get sick again.”

Taekwoon pulls away, mouth turning downwards—  _one more thing for his friends to worry about_ —  but Hakyeon throws an arm around his shoulders and drags him back.

“I know what you’re thinking,” he says sternly. “Don’t.”

“What are you, a mind reader?” Taekwoon retorts, but it’s weak, and after a few more insistent tugs he lets Hakyeon pull him down and rest his head on Hakyeon’s lap.

“Call it a mother’s intuition,” Hakyeon jokes, and Taekwoon slaps his thigh. “Ow! ‘kay, listen, Taekwoon, even if I can’t read your mind, you wear your heart on your sleeve. I’ve known you long enough to completely bypass your so-called poker face by now.”

“Right.”

“And you know what, you’re only human, Taekwoon,” Hakyeon sighs, slowly running his fingers through Taekwoon’s hair as he speaks. “You can’t be faulted for your emotions trying to run its course.”

“I’m a grown adult.”

“Doesn’t make you any less human,” Hakyeon replies firmly, and Taekwoon thinks about that, staring off into the darkness of his room, hand curled on top of Hakyeon’s lap. They sit like that for a while, until Taekwoon’s breathing evens out a little and he feels a little less shitty.

“Have I ever thanked you,” he croaks, resolutely keeping his eyes trained on his closet door. “For being here?”

Above him, Hakyeon laughs softly, and his fingers rest in the strands of Taekwoon’s hair.

“I don’t think so,” his friend muses. “But don’t worry; I already know.”

+

Sometimes, when Hakyeon’s at work and Hongbin’s doing research and Sanghyuk is too busy with homework to talk, Taekwoon hides out in one of the practice rooms downstairs with Wonshik.

Wonshik’s a little different than the others. Hakyeon is Taekwoon’s friend from middle school, and Hongbin and Sanghyuk are both juniors that graduated a few years after Jaehwan. They all converged at the same university eventually, but Wonshik, having known both Taekwoon and Jaehwan before, was the bridge between them all.

“If you think, even for one moment, that Jaehwan doesn’t miss you like crazy, then you’re really dumber than I thought you were,” Wonshik says over his coffee, and ducks when Taekwoon takes a swipe at his head.

“I think the lack of sleep and cafeteria food has gotten to your head,” Taekwoon retorts, and Wonshik gives him an unimpressed look. The bags under his eyes are ridiculous.

“I’m glad to hear your snarky wit though,” his friend says, turning back to the keyboard. “You look a bit better than before. Is Hakyeon feeding you well?”

Taekwoon fiddles with his pencil. If it weren’t for Hakyeon dragging him out to the dinner table every day for three meals, he would’ve collapsed long ago.

“I dunno how he finds the time too cook so much food.”

“Hakyeon would’ve tried to feed every one of us if he could. A year ago I would’ve groaned about it, but after all the junk food I’ve inhaled by now I’m really starting to miss home cooking,” Wonshik remarks, staring sadly down at the microwave dinner packets in the trash bin.

“I’m thankful for him,” Taekwoon admits. “He helped me keep it together even though I’ve had nearly three weeks to get used to living without Jaehwan.”

“I feel like we never appreciate Hakyeon enough until it’s too late,” Wonshik grins, leaning back in his chair to stretch. “But yes. I can only hope Jaehwan has managed to find something to keep his mind off missing you.”

“Jaehwan will be alright,” Taekwoon mutters. “He’s stronger than— than—”

“You?” Wonshik asks, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t think that’s true, Taekwoon. He might’ve been the one to go abroad for school but don’t think that he found it any easier to let everything else go.”

“He’s not needy the way I am right now,” Taekwoon says through gritted teeth, and it feels like the words are being wrenched out of him as he finally reveals his buried emotions. “He knows how to adjust, how to see the good in things, how to take it all in a stride, but me; Hakyeon had to forcibly pull me out of bed the day after Jaehwan left so I wouldn’t cry myself sick.”

Wonshik’s got an unnervingly knowledgable look in his eyes that unsettles Taekwoon.

“Your faith in Jaehwan is admirable, but the way you completely downplay yourself is not. Don’t do that to yourself.”

“I wish I could,” Taekwoon whispers, rubbing his temples slowly, and Wonshik smiles sleepily at him.

“You will believe in yourself someday,” his friend tells him. “I’m sure of it.”

+

He’s on his way home from the supermarket one night when his phone rings.

Fumbling with the heavy grocery bags, Taekwoon sets them down on the curb before reaching into his pocket to see who on earth is calling him at such an inconvenient time.

It’s Jaehwan.

Taekwoon couldn’t pick up fast enough.

“Jaehwan?” he says, worried, because it’s probably around five in the morning where his boyfriend’s staying and he wonders what’s so important that he’d pay long distance instead of texting for.

“Hi,” Jaehwan says, and he sounds cheerful enough, but Taekwoon can’t help but feel that something is amiss.

“You’re up early,” Taekwoon says, tilting his head even though Jaehwan can’t see him. “Or did you stay up late?”

“Just woke up,” Jaehwan laughs, and there’s a little hitch in his voice. “Just wanted to say hello, check up on you, and all that.”

“Are you alright?” Taekwoon asks, tightening his grip on his phone.

Jaehwan takes a beat to reply. “I’m okay,” he laughs. “Tired, really, I don’t even know why I suddenly woke up. I was having such a good nap too, after my midterm and all, and a proper dinner instead of cup noodles for once because I finally had time to go buy proper food—”

“Jaehwan,” Taekwoon interrupts softly. “You don’t sound okay.”

Jaehwan stops on the other side, and there’s a stretch of silence between them for a moment. Taekwoon holds his breath, feeling the autumn wind blow past him, chilling his bones as he waits.

“I am okay,” Jaehwan says quietly, and there’s no mistaking the tightness in his voice anymore. “I just— I’m just— I miss you, that’s all.”

Taekwoon closes his eyes. “I know,” he breathes out. “I know.”

“It’s just dumb,” Jaehwan mumbles. “So dumb, I was sleeping well, and I was gonna message you in the morning to say goodnight to you, and maybe I finally realized the difference in time zones between us, and then the distance, and how far away you really are, and I think— I lost it a little. I just feel terrible.”

“I understand,” Taekwoon whispers, and he can literally hear Jaehwan’s voice crumble, see his boyfriend’s figure curled in on himself as he muffles his cries with his palm, and he longs to pull Jaehwan close and comfort him. The space before him is too big, too vast. “You’re not alone with that feeling.”

“But for now I’m alone,” Jaehwan sobs, his voice brittle. “I wish I didn’t leave, I wish I were still here with you, in our tiny cranky apartment, with its stupid dripping faucet and that dumb dent Hongbin made when he tripped and fell into the wall, and I wish I didn’t make you move all your stuff into Hakyeon’s place now that I’m not here to share rent, and I wish I didn’t pack all my shit and fly halfway across the world and leave you and—”

“Don’t,” Taekwoon says, and he’s surprised by how calm he sounds, even though he feels like he’s being torn apart bit by bit. “Don’t say that, Jaehwan. We can be upset now, but we’ll be alright.”

Jaehwan gives an almighty sniff on the other side of the line. “You think so?”

“I’m still trying to convince myself that,” Taekwoon admits, somehow managing a little smile as he does. “But you’re still mine, are you not? I think, if I know that, then I can wait another two years before you really come back home.”

Jaehwan gives a watery laugh on the other side. “It’s odd to hear you being the optimistic one,” he says. “But I like it. I’m glad you believe in us.”

“I’ve never had a reason not to,” Taekwoon says firmly, and Jaehwan makes a soft sound; fond and tired.

“Are you busy right now?”

“Not particularly.”

“Can I ask you to sing for me then?” Jaehwan asks, and Taekwoon closes his eyes, imagining the nights Jaehwan managed to convince him to do karaoke, the moments in the shower that Jaehwan liked to sneak in and suddenly harmonize with him, and the times they lie side by side in bed, singing little tunes together. It’ll be different over the phone, but still the same, somehow.

“Of course.”

He takes a breath and picks a popular ballad he’s heard Jaehwan humming a few times back when it was in the top ten. It’s slow and soothing and Taekwoon might have forgotten a few of the words, but it’s a fairly long song and he sings (in the middle of the street) until the very end.

“Jaehwan?” he whispers, and there’s no response other than the faraway sound of even breathing. He smiles to himself and murmurs a quiet goodnight before hanging up, deciding not to eat too much into the long distance fees. He wouldn’t have minded listening to Jaehwan’s little snores and snuffles all night.

He slides his phone back into his pocket and bends down to pick up the shopping bags he’s set down, heart a little lighter than before but chest strangely constricted. Taekwoon straightens up with a sigh. Wonshik had been right; Taekwoon knew that Jaehwan would miss him, but he hadn’t thought his boyfriend would be this homesick. It made him ache, to hear the normally cheerful, upbeat Jaehwan break down into tears and speak in a tiny, pained voice, stumbling over all the things he misses about Taekwoon and their home.

It hurts to know this, and Taekwoon takes a shuddering breath in, glancing at the houses opposite of him, the trees growing in the gardens, and then golden leaves scattered on the ground.

And the sun— it sets far beyond the horizon as Taekwoon stands in the middle of the empty street, surrounded by nothing but his shopping bags and the cooling night air. The light cast by the flickering lamps overhead illuminates the harsh anguish on his face and the heavy, painful tears that continue to roll down his cheeks where no one is around to see.

+

He wakes at seven the next morning, staring up at the ceiling of his room, tired and wary, but with an oddly clear mind. The tired ache inside of him is present, but Taekwoon feels a new kind of weariness.

He’s sick of feeling sad.

He rolls out of bed and waits for the headrush to pass before padding out into the quiet kitchen, searching for the string to yank open the blinds instead of going for the light switch. Inside the fridge, there’s some leftover rice, a dozen eggs and some chopped vegetables. Slowly collecting those, Taekwoon sorts them out on the counter and begins to make breakfast.

Hakyeon gets out of bed half an hour later, rubbing sleep from his bewildered eyes as he stares at Taekwoon from the doorway of the kitchen.

“Why are you up so early?” he asks, sounding hopelessly lost as a tuft of his unruly hair wobbles precariously on his head. “Are you cooking?”

“I’m making breakfast,” Taekwoon says. “Can you get the coffee?”

Hakyeon nods, eyes wide, and stumbles over the counter to find the instant coffee mixes. They work silently together for a few minutes, the quietness punctured by nothing other than the crackle of frying rice and the  _plip plip_  of the coffee machine.

“I think,” Taekwoon says slowly, glancing behind him. Hakyeon tilts his head, and waits patiently. “I think I’m going to try harder. I— I don’t think I can change everything all at once, but I promise I’ll do things better, a little at a time. Today I’ll make breakfast. I’ll clean tomorrow. I’ll try to come back to the studio by next week. And after that... well, I haven’t thought that far ahead yet, but I’m sure I’ll have something soon,” Taekwoon mutters, feeling his cheeks heating up.

He’s not sure what he was expecting, but he blinks in surprise when Hakyeon wordlessly crosses the room and envelops him in a hug.

“You’re going to do fine, Taekwoon,” Hakyeon says, rubbing his back. “These two years will fly by before you know it.”

“I hope so,” Taekwoon replies. “I’ve also thought of something else to do, for Jaehwan.”

“What’s that?”

“I’m going to send him voice recordings,” Taekwoon says. “Songs. I’ll sing songs for him and just message them. Hopefully they’ll lift his spirits, if only a little.”

Hakyeon steps back, and his eyes are shining as he beams at Taekwoon.

“I think Jaehwan’s going to love that.”

+

It doesn’t get better right away, but he and Jaehwan tries.

The space beside Taekwoon doesn’t completely disappear, but things do look up. It’s alright to miss someone intensely, he thinks, even if it’s so intense that it hurts and nearly cripples you. But if he never tried to pick himself back up again after that— then he’d never be worthy of Jaehwan.

“What did I ever do to deserve your love?” Jaehwan teasingly asks over Skype the week before exam season officially starts, his hair longer and curlier than Taekwoon remembers, but the happy grin and the crinkles of his eyes are the same ones he used to kiss and admire.

“I don’t know,” Taekwoon hums, flipping through his notes with his chin on his palm. “I guess you’ll have to hang around to find out.”

Jaehwan laughs, and somewhere from the living room Hakyeon hollers for them to stop chatting and start studying properly.

+

The beginning of summer, exactly two years later, marks the blossoming of flowers, the end of the school year, and Jaehwan’s return.

Not that that stops his friends from forming horribly last minute travel plans.

“This is ridiculous,” Taekwoon complains. “We’re literally catching the bus an hour after we pick him up from the airport. What if he’s hungry? Or tired? What about his luggage?”

“Don’t worry,” Sanghyuk says through a mouthful of banana bread. “We can swing by Hakyeon’s place real quick and he can drop off anything school-related and bring the suitcase with all this clothes and toothbrushes and stuff in it!”

“Hey! Why is it always my place?” Hakyeon complains from behind the wheel.

“Because you’re the one who lives closest, that’s why,” Hongbin says wisely, and Hakyeon scowls as they go too quickly over a speed bump.

“Ow!” Wonshik yells, clutching the top of his head. “Slow down, Hakyeon!”

“The flight’s already landed,” Hakyeon snaps. “We don’t wanna be late for this.”

“But I also don’t want to die,” Taekwoon points out, and Sanghyuk laughs.

“I hate you guys,” Hakyeon groans, and the van hurtles at incredible speeds off the ramp. They get lost twice trying to navigate their way through the airport and Wonshik then needed a desperate pee break after that, so there was no way they weren’t late when they finally located the proper terminal for arrivals.

There’s a few unfamiliar people lingering behind, checking luggage and backpacks. However, there’s also a very familiar person waiting next to a cash machine, headphones in his ears and a baseball cap perched on his head, looking a little jetlagged but no worse for wear.

Taekwoon nearly trips over his feet when Sanghyuk shoves him forwards.

“Jaehwan,” he breathes, feeling a trembling warmth spread through his chest, and Jaehwan turns, eyes widening as he pulls his headphones out.

They cover the distance between them with several long strides and collide even though they weren’t running. Jaehwan’s nose bumps into his shoulder and Taekwoon’s chin knocks against Jaehwan’s head, but they only grip each other tightly, swaying a little on the spot.

“Hi,” Jaehwan whispers, pressing a kiss into the side of Taekwoon’s neck, and he chokes out a little laugh.

“Hello,” he replies, pulling back a little to smile at his boyfriend, and Jaehwan beams at him, hands locked behind Taekwoon’s waist and stars literally sparkling from his eyes.

“I missed you,” he whispers, and Taekwoon nods. “But I’m home now,” Jaehwan adds, and Taekwoon nods again, eyes closing as he exhales slowly.

“Welcome back,” he says, even though the others will swarm them in a minute, and in less than an hour they’ll be on their way to the bus terminal with a surprise ferry trip to a nearby island where they’ll likely be horribly late. Jaehwan is prone to getting seasick and Taekwoon knows one of them will have likely forgotten all of their necessities in the car— but before all that happens, all he can feel is joy and the simple realization that the two of them have made it, despite the distance between them.

And Taekwoon won’t ask for anymore than that.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!


End file.
